


It's Just Paint

by StupidGenius



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Panic Attacks, Post-Episode: s04e07 Weaponized, So pre-slash i guess, and he doesnt even like that guy, because im pissed, before they got together, is Mr McCall, that he almost died for them, the only one that knows stiles was prepared to die for his firends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidGenius/pseuds/StupidGenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek didn't expect to see Stiles when he got back from Deaton’s Clinic. And he really didn't expect to see blood splattered over his face.</p><p>Because I’m pissed that no one seemed to care that Stiles was almost killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just Paint

Derek stopped the car and scrubbed a hand over his face. This dead pool thing was getting out of hand. Seriously, a virus that kills supernatural creatures? He thought the strangest thing he’d ever have to come up against was the nogitsune. And to make matters worse, he still wasn’t healing from a _normal_ bullet wound. His senses were almost dull enough to be human. And his eyes were still flashing yellow instead of blue. It scared him. Part of him was being taken away, and he didn’t know why or how.

He got out of the Camaro and started up the steps to his loft. He paused at the top when he realized that someone was standing in front of the loft doors. And they were muttering.

“…count to three. And then I’m going to kill you.” They muttered. He frowned, taking a step towards them. He was close enough now that his dull senses could pick up a scent.

“Stiles?” he asked. The teen didn’t turn around.

“Think you can scare me? No, I think I can kill you.” It sounded like he was…talking to himself. But what the hell was he talking about? “I just thought the countdown would make it more exciting.”

“Stiles.” He tried again, taking another step towards him. He didn’t know what the teen was doing, but it was getting annoying, and he had things to do. Like take care of this bullet wound in his side.

“So…one…two-”

“What are you doing here?” he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He wasn’t expecting Stiles to jump two feet in the air at the touch. Now that he was close enough, just a foot away, he could hear the rabbit fast beating of the kid’s heart. “Are you- what’s on your face?” He asked him. Stiles stared at him with wide, panic filled eyes.

“D-Derek.” He squeaked. “I-I…its paint.” He could tell he was lying, even if he hadn’t heard his already rapid heartbeat go up.

“You were at the school.” He realized. He must have been. He was still covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he was paler than usual. “Is everyone okay? Did they find it?”

“It’s just paint.” He repeated. His whole body was shaking. He didn’t seem to be breathing very well either. Derek unlocked the door, casting him worried glances.

“Do you want to come in? Sit down?” He asked him. Stiles nodded, walking slowly into the loft. Derek closed the door and went to the kitchen. Stiles seemed to be frozen in the middle of the loft, eyes still wide, chest heaving, arms wrapped around his shaking frame. Now Derek was really worried. “Hey. Are you okay?” _Dumb question._

“I-I guess-” he let out a gasp. “No.” He shook his head. And then he dropped to the ground. It was so sudden, Derek didn’t know what to do for a second. Then he rushed over to him. Stiles was hyperventilating on his floor, curled up in a ball, and he honestly wasn't sure what to do, or what this even was.

“Stiles?” he tried to get him to sit up. He could still hear his heartbeat, thumping dangerously fast in his chest. “What is this?”

“P-panic-” he didn’t finish. But he knew what he was going to say. _Panic attack._ Derek wrapped his arms around him, not sure what else to do.

“Stiles, breathe.” He told him. That was probably a stupid thing to say, since Stiles was clearly trying to. “Just- You’re okay now. Everyone is fine, right?” he hoped they were. Or else this wouldn’t be very helpful at all. “You’re safe, okay, so just- please, _breathe_.”

It took a while, but Stiles’ breathing finally evened out, and his heart rate dropped to a more normal pace. They didn’t move from the spot on the floor, and Stiles’ hands were fisted in his shirt. He wasn’t shaking as much now.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “It’s just, today- it was hard.”

“It’s fine.” It was. Panic attacks didn’t look like something Derek ever wanted to go through.

“It was stupid.” Stiles sighed. Except, Derek knew Stiles wouldn’t panic over nothing. He was usually the one who didn’t panic. So this wasn’t stupid.

“What happened at the School?” he wondered. Stiles tensed. “You don’t have to-”

“This isn’t paint.” Derek almost didn’t hear him. He pulled back and finally got a good look at the kid. There were flecks of dark brown splattered across his cheeks. There was some on the bridge of his nose, on his lips, and a bit on his forehead. There were clumps of…something…dried in his hair. He smelled like panic, fear, a bit of sickness, and…blood. He smelled like blood. And t wasn’t his, but it was definitely on his face.

“What happened?” he felt like a broken record.

“Oh god.” Stiles sobbed. Tears started falling down his cheeks, and stiles leaned forward, burying his face in Derek’s neck. “Oh my god. He almost _shot_ me. I almost died. Oh god. I could have died.” he cried. Derek hesitantly rubbed his hand up and down the teen’s back, trying to comfort him.

“Who’s blood is that?”

“S-some crazy asshole who set the virus loose in the school.” Came the watery reply. “He wanted to know where they were, but I didn’t tell him, I _didn’t._ But I almost did. I almost let him kill my best fr-friend how could I do that?”

“It’s okay.” He assured him. He didn’t have the full story, but he could put together the pieces. Whoever set lose the virus must have threatened him to get to Scott.

“Scott’s dad killed him.” He said quietly. “Right before he got to three.” Stiles got off him then, and sat on the floor, putting his head in his hands. Derek watched him. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”

“I don’t mind. Really.” He wasn’t very good with words. He didn’t know how to convey his sincerity. So he just got up and offered the kid a hand. Stiles looked at his face, and then at his hand, then back at his face. After a moment, he accepted it and stood up.

“Hey.” He said softly. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.” He lied. No need to worry the boy further. Though he probably didn’t care if Derek was in pain or not. “It’s healed. I just haven’t gotten the chance to change my shirt.”

“Oh.” Stiles stopped in front of the kitchen counter, watching Derek as he rummaged through the fridge. “Can I-” he paused. “Is it okay if I stay for a while?”

“Sure.” He said without thinking. He had actually been planning on taking a nap and trying to heal. But now Stiles was smiling at him, and he really wanted to see more of that. “I have Netflix.” He told him.

“Seriously? Awesome!” Stiles beamed. “Have you ever seen firefly?” Derek shook his head. “Dude. We are watching it. Right now.” Stiles grabbed a water bottle and then dragged him over to where his laptop was on the couch.

Maybe he shouldn’t be letting him stay. Because Stiles made him feel things he hadn’t felt since Paige, and it was probably bad that he was feeling things for the sheriff’s underage son. But Stiles wanted to be here, and he was smiling as he huddled close and watched the show, so maybe he shouldn’t push him away. Just this once.


End file.
